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A New Era in U.S.-Africa Relations? Image Credit: President Donald Trump hosts a multilateral luncheon with African leaders, July 9, 2025. (Official White House Photo by Daniel Torok)

A New Era in U.S.-Africa Relations?

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The U.S.’ flagship Africa trade policy, the African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA), is set to expire in September after more than two decades—and not with a bang, but a whimper.

Its demise isn’t a shock; Trump’s top Africa diplomat critiqued the AGOA for failing to “reflect the modern world” back in May and argued that a new iteration must be firmly rooted in reciprocity. After years of vocal debate, the lack of pushback from policymakers as the AGOA quietly slips into oblivion makes one thing apparent: U.S.-Africa relations are entering a new era.

Gone are the commitments to democracy and humanitarian assistance of other post-Cold War administrations. Trade, not aid, is in vogue.

According to the administration, only nations that have demonstrated “both the ability and willingness to help themselves” will receive American assistance going forward. Never mind that such changes likely resign 14M people to death in the next five years—the administration isn’t moved by “anecdotes and data.”

While such actions are ethically dubious, the status quo cannot continue either. America’s Africa policy has lacked long-term coherence since the 1990s and has often resulted in ineffective and contradictory actions.

Take, for example, coup d’état policy. U.S. law requires the immediate suspension of aid to any coup-affected country. Because cutting aid to a new dictator or junta is often diplomatically problematic, policymakers may be reticent to publicly recognize that a coup has occurred.

For instance, in 2023, after a military junta seized power in Niger, the Biden administration criticized the junta’s takeover but waited three months to officially acknowledge the coup. Officials feared that doing so would push the junta to suspend joint counterterrorism operations and kick out U.S. military assets in retaliation. Unsurprisingly, the administration’s resulting dual strategy of condescension and ingratiation didn’t work—autocrats don’t like being lectured on the merits of democracy—and the junta suspended security cooperation with the U.S. anyway and strengthened ties with Russia. Worst of all, Washington’s bipolar balancing act was intentional and unnecessary; the Biden administration willfully ignored an amendment added just seven months prior that would have allowed aid distribution for national security purposes.

So, if past approaches haven’t worked, what is the alternative?

The Trump administration’s answer is “commercial diplomacy”: targeted U.S. investment and trade. It envisions using economic ties and mineral access to strengthen America’s geopolitical position vis-à-vis China and Russia, and the administration has already taken steps to cement these changes. U.S. Ambassadors in Africa have been repurposed more as dealmakers rather than diplomats, and Trump’s advisors negotiated a peace deal between the DRC and Rwanda that should grant the U.S. exclusive mineral contracts with both nations. If successful, these partnerships could significantly expand American critical mineral supplies and continue shifting mineral processing chains away from China.

But while the administration touts its expected gains, on-the-ground realities paint an entirely different picture.

Despite the tentative peace between Kinshasa and Kigali, little has changed in the DRC to inspire confidence for American corporations. Fighting between insurgents and the Congolese army continues, and the DRC’s ineffective military couldn’t prevent rebels from seizing a Heineken facility or closing a Canadian mine in eastern Congo earlier this year. If Trump is looking for a get-rich-quick scheme, the DRC isn’t it.

Additionally, the administration’s unwillingness to view African nations as equal partners cedes diplomatic ground to adversaries. While Trump passed aggressive tariffs and discriminatory visa policies, China extended its zero-tariff market to Africa. With the expiration of the AGOA imminent and U.S. trade with Africa down across the board, China’s gains will only compound. Trump can demean African states, but he forgets that they choose their partners, and they are consistently choosing China.

For all these shortcomings, a commerce-centric strategy holds merit, but the Trump administration’s approach needs revision.

First, the administration needs grander ambitions than simply securing critical minerals. Chinese exports to Africa in the first five months of 2025 were quadruple the total value of U.S. exports to the continent in 2024. By 2050, Africa will be home to 25 percent of the world’s population with a projected purchasing power of $16T. A narrow focus on medium-term resource deals risks ceding control over the world’s largest untapped market to China.

If the administration can’t overcome its mineral fixation, it should be more selective about its partnerships. Trump’s had success making deals with countries that can’t afford to refuse, but their instability might preclude short-to-medium term mineral acquisition. Senegal and Gabon—two countries without long-term insurgencies—leapt at the opportunity to sign deals granting America access to their resource wealth at a July luncheon in Washington D.C., but received only a lukewarm response.

Second, the administration needs to recognize African nations as equal partners, not geopolitical pawns. China remains the dominant economic partner for many African nations, but its engagement has slowed. The U.S. could fill the void, but insulting and alienating partners on the continent will only harm, not help, its geostrategic position.

The Trump administration prides itself on putting America first, but if it doesn’t reassess its partnerships with African nations, it will only aid China in the long run.